


Celebration

by Sam_Eller



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Birthday, Brotherly Fluff, Brothers, Caring Dean, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, One-Shot, Sam's Birthday, Season 8, Sick Sam, Trials, sam and dean - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-02
Updated: 2015-05-02
Packaged: 2018-03-26 18:59:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3861070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sam_Eller/pseuds/Sam_Eller
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean convinces his sick little brother that his birthday is worth celebrating. Sick/Sad/Sam and Caring/Big Brother Dean. One-Shot. Set in Season 8 between Pac-Man Fever and The Great Escapist.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Celebration

I woke up to the sound of my little brother trying to hack his lungs up.

He was coughing again.

Always coughing.

The painful noise echoed down the hall into my room and was a constant reminder of the trials.

Of the sickness that had taken up residence in Sam's body.

Of the impending doom that was no doubt headed our way.

I sighed and rolled out of bed, knowing that my current train of thought wouldn't end anywhere productive...or positive.

I prepared for the day, as I listened to the resounding soundtrack of Sam's hacking. All the while worrying and frowning, until I remembered what day it was.

May 2nd.

Sammy's birthday.

I had realized it was approaching several days ago and decided that this year we would make some sort of an effort to celebrate it.

So much had been going on...well...our entire lives and an exciting celebration wasn't always an option, but I always tried to make sure we at least acknowledged the day.

But this year we were going to do more than acknowledge.

We were going to celebrate. Well we would celebrate as well as one could with a sick, possibly dying, little brother.

I shook my head in an effort to physically rid myself of the dark thoughts.

I made my way to the kitchen, pausing by the library to peak in on Sam, who was pouring over research.

Typical.

That was all the kid did anymore. If he wasn't sleeping, he was researching.

He probably didn't know what day it was, even worse, he probably didn't care.

Sam hadn't been a big fan of May 2nd, not for quite a few years now.

I'll admit it, in the past he had a few bad birthdays...okay, more like a few really fucking traumatic birthdays, but that was no reason to completely write off the entire day.

I nodded at my own mental conclusion and opened the fridge.

I had gone out grocery shopping yesterday with this particular anniversary in mind. I had been determined to find something that the sick young man would actually eat.

Eating had never been Sam's thing, not even when he was a kid. I had always had to push and prod to get him to pull his nose out of a book and shove some food into his mouth.

But since he started the trials, getting that boy to digest anything was next to impossible.

I pulled out the croissants I had picked up at the bakery, followed by the greek salad, and finally, watermelon. It wasn't a big meal, but I had a feeling the rare luxurious would catch Sam's interest. In the unlikely case that they all failed, there was always the frozen yogurt I had hidden in the freezer.

Because my little brother was a total chic and instead of cake or pie, he preferred fruit and yogurt.

I poured Sam a glass of grape juice. I had been surprised when he requested yesterday after I informed him I was going on a food run. Normally a sick Sammy asked for orange or apple juice. After being questioned, my brother admitted that grape juice was the only beverage strong enough to rid his mouth of the tangy taste of blood. I had struggled not to display any sort of reaction to the blunt statement, and simply nodded my understanding.

When I had instructed Sam to not hide the effects of the trials from me, I had never imagined he would become so candid.

It was unnerving, but of course I would never tell him that. I needed him to be honest.

I placed all the food on a tray, along with a sandwich and beer for myself.

I marched back down the hall into the library and set the food down right in front of Sam, on top of the books he currently had spread out in front of him.

"Dean I-

His protest halted once he registered the items on the tray, then two tired, but surprised hazel eyes wandered up to meet mine.

"Happy Birthday Sammy." I said with a smile, dropping down into the chair across from him and grabbing my food and beverage.

Sam looked confused for a moment, before scowling.

I hated the disdain my kid brother seemed to have toward this day.

"Isn't it a little early for that?" He asked, nodding toward the beer in my hand.

"Not really, it's almost ten. Besides, we're celebrating." I replied.

"Not like there's much to celebrate." The young man across from me muttered, glaring down at his food.

"Umm...your birth, another year of life, your thirtieth year of existence." I listed off.

"Whatever." Sam dismissed, shoving his tray of food to the side and returning his attention to his research.

"Okay, you know what? That's it."

I reached out and flipped the books closed, shoving them and the loose papers to the side.

"Dean what the hell?"

"I have let this go on too long."

"What are you talking about?"

"You Sam. I'm talking about you and this ridiculous hate you seem to have for your birthday. I get that you have some bad memories, but that doesn't mean that every May second you get to mope around."

"I'm not moping. And a _few bad memories_? You're kidding me right?" Sam hollered. He was pissed, and I knew if he had the energy or the strength to stand, he would have.

"Okay, so they were really bad memories, but still-

"Let's reflect shall we? First of all, there was the day I was born and that's pretty much when everything started going down hill."

"Hey! You know that's not true. Our family was cursed long before you arrived!" I snapped back.

Sam looked frustrated, but he paused for a moment and nodded, indicating that he would give me that one.

"Fine. Then there was the year I died, oh and then year you died, and let's not forget that year I jumped into the pit. And then there were about a hundred and twenty birthdays in hell and Lucifer always managed to remember every damn one and would make certain that they were memorable."

I shuttered at that last statement. When I had been calculating the number of Sam's unfortunate birthdays I hadn't even thought of all the ones he would have spent in the cage.

My brother must have noticed my distress, because he immediately calmed, slumping back in his chair with a resigned, yet sympathetic expression.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to go off like that." He admitted softly. "You just have to understand that this particular day isn't one that I want to remember."

I paused, thinking of a way to make this better.

Thinking of a way to convince my little brother that he should look upon this day with joy instead of misery.

"I guess I never thought of it like that, because I remember them a little differently."

Sam sent me a look of disbelief, but I could tell by the minor rise of his one eyebrow, that his interest was piqued.

"I never considered all the birthdays you spent in hell. It's not easy for me to think about, how much time you spent in the cage."

"I know Dean, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have-

"Let me finish."

Sam fells silent, his jaw clenching as he resisted the need to voice his opinions.

"But as for the rest of them. The day you jumped into the pit was one of the worst days of my life. But it was also the day you saved the world. It was the day my little brother saved the entire damn planet, so I don't think it is something that should be forgotten."

I stared evenly at Sammy as I spoke, needing him to know that I was being entirely truthful. Needing him to see the honesty and openness in my eyes, because the only way he would ever believe as word I was saying, was if I believed.

And hell yeah, I believed it.

"The day I went to hell isn't the most joyful thought either. But it was also the day I saved you. So that you could live to have more birthdays. And I would do it again."

Sam winced at the memory, his eyes growing moist.

"And May 2nd, 2007 was the day you came back to me-

"It was the day you sold your soul, Dean." Sam pointed out darkly.

"It was the day I got you back. And I will never forget it." I stated firmly.

He could point out the negative all he wanted, but what I remember about that day was not selling my soul, it was seeing my little brother come back from the dead. It was getting to hug his warm, living body after spending hours staring at his cold, lifeless form. It was having my kid brother back in the land of the living. That day would always be remembered as the day that my reason for breathing was returned to my side.

"And the day that you were born, was the day that I became a big brother, And I wouldn't change it Sammy, not for anything." I declared confidently, imploring my kid brother to believe me.

Sam was stunned into silence. His face studying mine.

"So you can sulk all you want. But I for one would like to celebrate the fact that my little brother is turning thirty years-old." I announced nonchalantly as I took another swig of my beer.

There was a moment of silence before a soft dimpled smile lit up the young man's tired face. Sam reached forward and slid the tray of food toward him, picking up the fork and jabbing a piece of watermelon, savouring the taste before swallowing it down.

"Do I dare ask what you have planned for today?" He questioned with a smirk as he took another bite of the juicy fruit.

I couldn't stop the smile that spread across my face.

I thought we'd just hang out. I picked up the Die Hard movies, we could have a marathon. And then maybe, if you're feeling up to it, we could go out and pick you up when of those nerdy computer tablet things that Charlie had, the one you were so jealous of. And if you're good, there might even be some frozen yogurt in the deal for you."

Sam's dimples deepened as his grin grew.

"That sounds good." He proclaimed.

"Good." I replied, taking a big bite of my sandwich.

I watched as Sam ate his meal, only coughing a little between bites and gulps of grape juice.

As I thought back over the past thirty years, one blinding fact stood out to me.

Sam was a fighter.

He had made it through an endless number of tragedies that would have broken anybody else, but not him.

Sam was strong and he would make it through these trials, just as he had made it through everything else.

And I would be there right by his side to make sure of it.

Because I was his big brother, and that was my job.

"Hey Dean?" My little brother timidly called out.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks." He said, his grateful tone oozing sincerity as his puppy dog eyes stared over at me.

"Don't mention it Sammy."

And it was the best damn job in the world.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Please comment if you have a second. - Sam


End file.
